RWBY: A Liberty City Story
by Apparuerit Diabolo et Loqui
Summary: Just out of juvy and nearly an adult, Ruby heads across American to join her sister's new business venture of organised crime, high level drug dealing and bank robbery in Liberty City. RWBY/GTA crossover, inspired by Grand Theft RWBY.
1. Chapter 1

**Inspired by the story _Grand Theft RWBY_.  
**

**Grand Theft RWBY was an interesting idea but I personally didn't like the execution. The motive for Weiss, Yang and Ruby's life of crime is pretty awful, it's like they're criminals because it's fun or something. Weiss and Ruby's initial relationship was also awful - love at first sight? Really? Also, as a bit of a gun nut and a Tom Clancy fan I cringe whenever anyone calls a gun a "sniper" or an "advanced SMG" - please use real gun names; you're not going to get sued by Remington or Heckler and Koch. There will be gracious amounts of gun and technology porn.**

**Regardless, it was still fun to read and unless you're more anal than me (and that is saying something) you'll still enjoy it.**

**I've using a mix of the 3D (GTA3, Vice City and San Andreas) and HD (GTA IV, GTA V) worlds in this.**

**This is a world merging crossover. It's basically GTA with large chunks of RWBY imported in and modified. Faunus, White Fang, Schnee Dust Company, Beacon are just some examples that have been brought in and in some cases tweaked massively. There will be both RWBY and GTA character in this.  
**

**Oh yea, this will be White Rose. It probably won't be Bumblebee; lesbians are great and all but if you have them everywhere it begins to feel a bit silly.**

* * *

**RWBY: A Liberty City Story**

**Chapter One**

**Thirteen Months in ****a Cage**

"Prisoner One-Zero-Four-Four-Three, Ruby Rose," stated the butch looking prison guard. "Your time is up."

This wasn't unexpected; she had been counting the days to her release since she got here. Thirteen months in Medium Security at the _San Andreas Young Women's Correctional Facility_ in Red County serving out a sentence for _Felon Firearms Possession._ The sentence had been light for the crime and she was incredibly lucky that the detective – who she was certain knew she had done much much worse – couldn't find any substantial evidence to support his theory. He certainly had enough evidence to obtain a warrant for the dingy apartment she and her sister Yang had shared.

She was young, innocent looking and could play the card of naivety quite well – mostly because it was true. It also helped that she wasn't a faunus or black either. She had managed to twist her statements enough that the guns didn't look like they were hers; after all, why would an innocent sixteen year old girl like her willingly have enough guns to fight a small war stashed in the back of her wardrobe? The looks she had been going for at her sisters suggestion was that someone had coerced her into hold them on their behalf and she was too scared to name names. It worked.

Though more difficult than her short stint in Juvenile Hall a few years back, San Andreas Young Women's Correctional Facility was a cakewalk compared to the horror stories of the male prison service. However, that wasn't to say that there wasn't fights or violence, quite the contrary actually; fights could happen for completely asinine reasons and the girls inside held grudges for a very long time.

Only sixteen and one of the youngest in the prison, Ruby had been quick to seek protection under one of the older women; a nineteen year old Clara Ferguson. Ferguson was a burly bear-faunus woman who was ruthless and was one of the most influential and powerful women in the prison despite several others styling themselves as queens of their own little fiefdoms. Ferguson had quickly come to a liking for innocent looking Ruby and quickly offered her a… _job_ of sorts.

The bear-faunus wasn't really Ruby's type and she felt like she was whoring herself out but the older girl at least showered daily and it meant Ruby had to do very little dirty work – dirty work that could see a few months or even years tacked onto her sentence – for the protection offered. It was an easier prison life than most even if it wasn't exactly how she wanted her first time.

When Ferguson had found out that Ruby would be out in only a few weeks she had told Ruby that once she too was out she would have some work for her. That however wasn't something she wanted to pursue if she could avoid it so she simply nodded in agreement all while making a mental note to never follow it up; she would just being going where Yang goes and Yang would probably try to kill Ferguson if she found out what sort of work Ruby had done for her.

Yang had visited Ruby in prison not long after she was sentenced and told her that she was heading to Liberty City on the opposite side of the country with a friend to look for work because of the heat on her in San Andreas. Ruby didn't know what had happened to get Yang on someone's shit-list but it must have been pretty serious for her to leave so suddenly. Yang promised she would be back in San Andreas on the day of her release before giving Ruby her friend's phone number in case something happened.

She was no fool and knew full well why Yang gave her a spare contact number. The thought was the most difficult part of being locked up in the _San Andreas Young Women's Correctional Facility_ and unable to help.

"Ditching us, Ruby? Don't like living here?" called one of the girls mockingly from her cell.

"Wasn't your owner feeding you enough you fucking dyke bitch?" called another woman.

"Too rough for you, little girl?"

Ruby rolled her eyes at the disgruntled inmate who still have time left as she was escorted to the two layered security doors and onto the processing station; it was pretty hard for those insults to bring her down seeing as she was being released and they were not. Releases happened in the mornings before anyone was let out of their cells; both to stop other inmates from disrupting the proceedings and to save the prison the cost of feeding a prisoner breakfast.

As she reached the processing station she had passed through thirteen months earlier another guard with a scowl pushed a plastic box through the opening in the station window which contained everything she had on hand when they had sentenced her. Rose crinkled her nose in distaste at what she had worn during the trial; a pale pink sundress in an attempt to pass off her supposed innocence towards the jury. She briefly considered asking if she could wear her prison jumpsuit out instead when the guard ordered her to hurry up.

With no modesty left intact from her thirteen months, Ruby simply dropped the orange jumpsuit to the floor and threw the dress over her head before handing over the jumpsuit and filling up the handbag Yang had given her to carry her wallet and phone in during the trial.

"Can I go now?" she asked impatiently.

The guard in the processing station just rolled her eyes before pushing the button to open the door to the outside world. A loud electric sounding buzzer went off and the door audibly clanked before Ruby pushed it open, tasting freedom for the first time in over a year. The guard who had escorted her from her cell followed a few paces behind her as she made her way to the front sliding gate topped with razor wire. Her followed gave a nod to the guard in charge of watching the gate who pushed another button which opened the sliding gate just enough for her to walk through, only the find the visitors car park deserted and no sister in sight.

o0o0o0o

Ruby desperately hopedy that Yang was simply late as she waited in the visitor's parking lot. Failing to turn on her phone and call her sister, she eventually gave up and assumed she had mistakenly left it on when she had handed it over to the prison guard over a year previous leaving the battery as dead as a famous painter.

Half an hour passed with no arrivals (sisterly or other) and Ruby decided to track down a pay phone – if any still existed in this world of cell phones. She was sure Yang would be here unless something had happened to her and the thought gave her an edge of worry; could the people she was running from caught up with her? If she had been there would Yang have been alright? If Yang was dead she was sure that the prison guards would have notified her as Yang's closest living relative… though that was dependent on the law actually following their own rules for once. It was a horrifying thought.

Slowly Ruby began her trek along the long remote road to where she remembered a small town to be. The walk gave her far too much time to worry over Yang's possible fate, fear beginning to take a hold of her, her elation at being free long gone. A long hour it was under the hot San Andreas sun with no water by the time she reached the small town where she tiredly went to look for a payphone.

"No coins," she mumbled as she pulled a tenner from her wallet having found the town's only payphone luckily wasn't dilapidated.

Looking around she spotted a run-down looking convenience store. Entering to ask the teller if she could get some change she stopped when she noticed something.

"Ohhh!" exclaimed Ruby as she spotted her first cookie in more than a year.

It wasn't a freshly made cookie like she might find in a nice café or a home-made cookie found in a little family coffee shop, but rather one in a sealed plastic packet for sale at the counter. Still, regardless of its potential staleness, she wanted it, and it would let her use the phone when she broke up the ten dollar bill she had.

The sour-looking middle-aged woman behind the counter didn't share Ruby's enthusiasm or lust filled gaze for the sugary white chocolate and macadamia goodness contained within as she handed over the note. The counter lady just grunted when Ruby asked for some coins for the payphone before ripping open the packet and heading back towards the payphone.

The cookie didn't last the trip across the street and, with the distraction gone, her worries returned with full force. Nervously she fished the crumpled piece of paper with Yang's friend's number on it, placed a few coins into the payphone and began to dial the number.

o0o0o0o

"We should have shotguns for this kind of deal."

Blake Belladonna gave her best – and arguably only – friend a look of incredulousness as she pulled on the handbrake and turned off the car in the alley behind the premises in Schottler, Broker they would be visiting today.

"Quoting movies now?" she asked Yang Xiao Long dryly before adding in an undertone; "At least it wasn't a pun."

"What?" Yang exclaimed. "But puns are pun!"

Blake closed her eyes and visibly cringed at her friend's awful wordplay.

"And for that matter you do have a shotgun," said Blake, dragging the conversation back onto the job at hand.

Yang loudly gasped as she held her hand to her chest.

"You're right!" said Yang with poorly concealed false surprise before adding in an equally convincing tone of concern; "You don't, though."

Blake rolled her eyes as she opened the door, Yang following suit, unconsciously pulling her hoodie down to conceal the handgun on the belt on her waist, and went around to the trunk of the blue sedan they had borrowed from one of their mooks for the job.

"Well, not all of us are freakishly tall and can hide a shotgun under their breasts and a duster," replied Blake as she and Yang both pulled out a pair of leather gloves that matched the colour of their clothes from their pockets and donned them before Blake pushed the keys into the lock and popped open the trunk.

"Hey, what can I say? I was born lucky I guess," replied Yang.

Inside the trunk was a dark blue sports bag which Yang leaned over and unzipped, revealing the aforementioned shotgun and a suppressed MAC-11 sub-machine gun. Yang and Blake both looked up quickly at the reveal and checked for any nosy busy-bodies who might call the cops if they saw the two young women carrying a number of not-so-legal weapons.

Satisfied that no one was around, Yang pulled the MAC-11 out of the bag along with a magazine and handed both to Blake who took the gun; confidently pulling the top-mounted charging handle to the rear and inserting a magazine. Satisfied the gun was ready to go at a moment's notice, she unzipped the black hoodie she was wearing revealing her usual black and white, and a one-point loop sling. Clipping the sub-machine gun to the sling she zipped the hoodie back up, hiding the weapon from view.

In a similar process, Yang removed her Russian-made Saiga 12 magazine-fed shotgun from the bag before gripping the vertical fore grip firmly and pulling open the action before slipping a single red 12-gauge buckshot round into the weapon. With a round chambered she fished a five-round magazine from the sports bag and rocked it in the weapon with an audible click before hiding the much larger gun under her brown leather duster from its sling. Yang had specially modified the normally several feet long shotgun for her own purposes by cutting the barrel down to ten inches and fitting a side-folding stock on the rear end.

Now armed, Blake pulled out two thin long magazines for her MAC-11 and dropped them into the front pocket of her hoodie before pulling out two of the shorter and stubbier magazines of the Saiga and handing them the Yang who dropped them into the pocket of her duster.

"Good to go?" asked Yang.

Blake nodded.

Cautiously, they exited the alley and walked up the street past the identical looking terraced homes – only differentiated by the various bits of junk dumped outside – before coming to a halt outside of a three-story house from which they could hear Jamaican stoner music being played inside.

"One-hundred and twelve?" confirmed Yang quietly.

"That's it," replied Blake with a nod.

With another quick look up and down the street, the pair pushed open the black cast iron gate whose screech was thankfully drowned out by the stoner music and walked past the dead looking fridge and washing machine before going up the steps to the door. With a nod, the pair reached under their jackets and took a firm grip on their weapons so they could be ready at a moment's notice, before Yang banged on the door loudly three times and the pair stood off to the sides of the door – it wouldn't be good to start their day by getting shot through the front door.

"Stupid fucker probably can't hear us over the music," muttered Yang after a good thirty seconds before banging on the door again, this time louder.

Another thirty seconds and no answer, Yang turned to Blake and asked; "Did you bring your picks?"

"Of course," replied Blake with a tone of obviousness. "Never leave the house without them."

However, instead of pulling them from wherever she had stowed them, Blake reached for the door handle, turned it and pushed open the door; showing the door was unlocked.

"See, easy," she added before trying to push the door open and finding the locking chain was in place, stopping the door from opening more than a few inches.

With a sigh, Blake moved aside and took a glance around the street again. Yang gave a soft chuckle before she shouldered the door forcefully, ripping the chain from the doorframe with a crack of splintering wood. With no one in immediate sight, both stepped into the entrance hall and closed the door behind, hiding any obvious damage done before undoing their respective outerwear and hefting up their respective weapons to the ready position.

The music was much louder inside and the smell of stale weed was all pervasive in the dimly lit home. The owner clearly valued his privacy given every window on this floor was covered with heavy curtains, leaving the only light coming from a thin strip where it peeked through the gap between the curtains and the wall.

"See a light switch anywhere?" asked Yang over the music as she flipped open the side folding stock of her shotgun, hoping Blake's better night vision given her faunus heritage would help find the switches in the darkened hallway.

Without answering, Blake moved over to the side of the entrance hall and turned on all the switches, illuminating the entire floor before retracting the wireframe stock on her MAC-11.

"I see the place hasn't gotten any nicer," commented Blake as she surveyed the stained carpet and the pot plants that could be better described as pots of soil in the hallway.

"_Oh yeah_ – what a dump," said Yang with a hint of disgust.

Without another word, the pair made their way down the hall and peeked into the first room weapons up revealing a deserted lounge room occupied by an old TV and a stained sofa. Moving on the found the combined dining room and kitchen. Dirty dishes covered every free surface of the kitchen and a good portion of the dining table, making it difficult to discern the dirty washing from the leftover breakfast. At the centre of the table was a monument to three-pack-a-day smokers everywhere; an overflowing one gallon jar filled to the brim with ash and cigarette butts.

"I mean, messy is one thing, but this is just disgusting," commented Yang as Blake crinkled her nose in disgust.

"Let's find Blunty, do what we need to do, and get out of here," said Blake.

"Aye-aye to that," replied Yang unenthusiastically. "Next floor?"

Blake nodded as they swept the stairs, looking out for anyone that might feel the need to spring an ambush on them as they climbed up. Back to back they climbed the stairs; Yang taking point while Blake watched the stair's railing, taking care not to trip.

The music on the second floor was louder as they got closer to the source. Each room looked like they were supposed to be bedrooms except one was filled with junk and they couldn't get the door open enough to actually enter. The other looked like a smoking den equipped with several large bongs, a few pipes and a hooka almost as tall as Blake. The bathroom at one end of the floor was also 'clean' – in the tactical sense that is.

Again, the pair repeated their trek up the stairs; covering each other with their weapons up just in case Blunty chose to end their business dealings with gunfire and bloodshed. Blunty however, hadn't seemed to have noticed their trespass upon his property. He was either high, couldn't hear their break-in over the noise, or – most likely – both.

"Pretty sure he's in the master bedroom," said Yang as she looked to the closed door that was the source of the music.

Blake nodded in agreement. It was best to be sure however.

"Clear the other rooms first so we don't have anyone sneaking up on us," she decided after a few moments of consideration.

Like the floor below, the bedrooms seemed to be unused and in a dilapidated condition or filled with drug paraphernalia like bongs and a few small bags of weed, and the carpet was littered with rips and stains – none of which Yang or Blake wanted to know the source of. The bathroom on this floor was actually in a serviceable condition however and didn't make anyone people present want to vomit.

Satisfied every room on the floor bar the master bedroom was clear the pair cautiously approached the door of loud music, Blake in front.

Raising her sub-machine gun with one hand and twisting the doorhandle with her other, Blake pushed open the door quickly and moved into the room with Yang hot on her tail. Weapons up and ready for a fight both slumped slightly at the sight seen through the thick clouds of strong smelling smoke of Blunty stark naked on his king-sized bed – dreads and all other hairs visible, bong in hand and getting rather intimate with two equally naked women.

Blunty and his two friends didn't seem to notice Yang and Blake's arrival in their marijuana induced daze. Instead, his two female friends started giggling before leaning over and kissing each other to Blunty's happy exclamation.

Blake sighed and glanced at an equally unhappy Yang; trying to get the thirty grand owed off a very high stoner was going to be frustratingly tedious. The Jamaican drug dealer probably wouldn't even realise how much shit he was in nor how serious the pair were about getting their due even with their big, threatening and lethal guns.

Blake was broken out of her musings by a crash and the silence of the music going dead; Yang had shoved the amplifier off of its table forcefully where it had crashed to the ground. The amplifier let out a cloud of acrid black smoke as it gave its last breath before the cloud vanished into the many times larger cloud of pot smoke; _this_ got Blunty's attention.

"Aww, Yang! Not cool, babe! Not cool!" he exclaimed as he got up off his bed of giggling girls and let his glory swing free.

Blunty approached the pair of gun-hands armed only with a bong, looking relatively serene despite Yang's recent destruction of his sound-system.

"Why not have a cone and chillax? No need for destruction!" he suggested despite a twelve gauge muzzle staring him in the face. "You can join me and the girls."

_Yeah_, neither of them wanted to deal with someone who's high. This was going to be a difficult morning.

Not having much patience to begin with, Yang snatched the offered bong out of the naked man's hands and threw it to the other side of the room. The bong shattered into many little pieces as it hit the floor and the putrid bong water added to the many stains already present on the carpet.

"Not cool, babe!" he exclaimed as he stared wistfully at the remains of his bong. "It's not cool to trash a man's piece."

Yang rolled her eyes without care as his companions joined in with his admonishment of Yang's destructive tenancies. Blake could see Yang was quickly loosing all patience with the man before she suddenly lashed out with her fist and hit Blunty square in the nose causing the stoner to give a muffled nasally scream as he covered his rapidly bloodening nose with his hands.

Blunty's companions looked that they wanted to retaliate against Yang through their stoned haze but they seemed to have come to the realisation that Blake and Yang were not going to be messing around as Yang kicked Blunty in the knee and grabbed one of his arms causing him to fall forward with a yelp before Yang started dragging him by the arm out the room.

Blake had a good idea what Yang had in mind and decided to get rid of Blunty's two companions quickly.

"I think you should leave," said Blake as she gestured to the door with the muzzle of her sub-machine gun.

Both girls – one with her hands up – nodded and quickly threw on their clothes, every so often looking back at the heavily armed Blake. Neither really seemed to know what to do once they were dressed and stood awkwardly, glancing at each other every so often before Blake sighed impatiently and gestured to the door again. Getting the hint both made for the door fast as Blake trailed along down the flights of stairs and too the front door.

Blake was confident neither girl would go to the cops as getting your client in trouble with the law – not to mention themselves for prostitution – never sat well. If they did anyway for some reason they would be rather easy to track down in the community, something they would know about.

Returning up-stairs, Blake could hear the sounds of the shower running from the bathroom. Entering she found Yang at the sink washing her knuckles, and Blunty curled up like a baby and cradling his nose as he lay under a cold shower.

At the sound of the door opening Yang looked up and gave a small gleeful smirk in Blake's direction off the mirror. It was a bit unusual for the pair to be doing the '_groundwork'_ now they were off the ground financially as they left debt collection to the mooks, but thirty grand was no amount to sniff at necessitating Yang and Blake's involvement. Already unhappy with being on debt duty, the job was made worse by Blunty himself.

"Do you think he's sobered up enough?" asked Blake curiously.

"Nah, let him cool off for a bit longer," replied Yang with a smile.

Blake just rolled her eyes good-naturedly at Yang, unsure if that was supposed to be another terrible pun or not.

"Well, I'm going to take a look around," said Blake after several minutes of near silence, broken only by sound being the occasional groan from Blunty.

Yang gave a few nods.

"Well, if you find the stuff, holler."

Blake nodded before lazily wandering out the bathroom and down the corridor back to the master bedroom. Yang just leant against the bathroom wall, smiling with vindictiveness as the broken naked man sat under the shower. Blunty's dreads had probably never been this clean.

o0o0o0o

Wrinkling her nose in disgust at the obvious sticky damp spots on the king-sized bed, Blake crouched down so she could see under the bed searching for their owed property. There was a good few kilos of weed in pressed vacuum packed blocks, an aging and pitted shotgun, a gold-plated revolver, several sex toys of varying sizes and colours, but no kilo of high-quality cocaine or an equivalent-value large pile of cash. Quietly sighing she got up off the floor and made a mental note to double wash her black jeans.

Moving towards one of the dressers in the room she pulled the top draw out and dumped its contents on floor before shuffling through it with her foot for the goods. Kicking what could be best described as pimp clothes out the way she repeated the process with the next draw down. Before she could however move onto the third she was interrupted by a vibration on her thigh; someone was trying to call her cell.

Pulling out the phone, she glanced at the caller ID expecting someone was calling her about the job, possibly the mook whose car they had borrowed asking when he would get it back. Instead however the caller ID said _Payphone – SA._ There weren't many people from San Andreas she particularly wanted to speak too she noted with a small frown. Still, it wouldn't hurt to pick up and it's not like her many enemies could do anything to her over the phone – she might even get some forewarning if someone was coming for her blood.

With a slight amount of reluctance she swiped her gloved finger across the little green phone symbol and lifted the phone to her ear.

"_Um – hello?_" asked the female voice on the other end of the line. "_Is anyone there?_"

Blake paused for several seconds before replying.

"It's generally considered polite to give your name first."

"_Oh – um, I was told to ring this number if I couldn't get ahold of Yang,_" nervously said the girl who sounded younger and younger by the word.

Blake paused again before carefully wording her question.

"And what is your relationship with this Yang?" she relied neutrally.

"_Oh – uh… she's my sister._"

Though the girl couldn't see her, Blake's eyes went wide at those words as everything quickly clicked together.

"Oh..." replied Blake simply as she made for time as she remembered Yang's sister's name. "Ruby, isn't it?"

"_Yeah, that's me; Ruby Rose,"_ she replied before continuing very quickly. "_Is Yang there? I really need to speak to her. Do you know how to contact her? I'm using a payphone but I don't have much cash left."_

"Yea, just give me a second to get her."

Blake exited the bedroom and headed back towards to bathroom where the sounds of the shower could still be heard.

"Found it?" asked Yang.

Blake shook her head and held out the phone.

"It's your sister."

Yang went wide eyed at that statement before swearing loudly.

"_Fuck."_

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**Like it? Hate it? Please tell me why so I can make it better. Positive and negative comments that don't say what you liked/hated will be ignored.  
**

**All stoners harmed in this fanfiction recovered in 4 to 6 months.  
**

**AN1:**

**Thanks to OneirosTheWriter over on the Dark Lord Potter forums for the spelling and grammar corrections.**


	2. Chapter 2

**Sorry this took so long people.**

**I was waiting for GTAV to come out on PC before writing more and by the time I got around to working on this Volume 3 was just around the corner so I decided to wait it out and get a better feeling for how the story would progress and how the characters might change. Ended up being 11 months between chapters... A new record.  
**

**That being said, I'm rather stuck. The last scene or two sort of ground to a halt and something about the writing just feels wrong to me. I just can't write anything because it doesn't flow right. If anyone has any ideas about how to fix it that would be appreciated.**

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**RWBY: A Liberty City Story**

**Chapter Two:**

**Debt Collection**

Yang snatched the phone out of Blake's hand, quickly forgetting the sobering drug dealer in favour of the sister she swore she would protect and look after.

"Ruby?" she asked quietly.

"_Yang?_"

Yang cringed at how quickly one missing thought would turn into a massive fuck up.

"_Are you alright?"_

She was supposed to be asking that, not Ruby. She was supposed to be there for her.

"I'm fine Rubes. What about you?"

"_Well, I just got out of jail..._" replied Ruby sounding slightly hurt.

"I know, I know..." replied Yang not sure what to say or how to make this better. "I was so busy with work, I..."

Yang shook her head; she wasn't sure what to say.

"_Yang?"_ asked Ruby. "_Are you there?"_

Yang sighed.

"I should be there Ruby, I don't have an excuse."

She was supposed to be there for her! _Damn-it!_

It felt like an eternity to Yang before Ruby replied.

"_Where are you?"_

Yang gave a tired sigh.

"Liberty City."

Again, it felt like it took an eternity for Ruby to reply.

"_Oh_," was all Ruby said with a touch of hurt.

All Yang could think of was how she had fucked up again. Thoughts raced through her head as she tried to figure out how she could salvage the disaster.

"You didn't have a bank account when you went in, did you?" asked Yang.

_"__Uh… nope?"_

Yang paced back and forth with the phone on her ear as she figured out what she would do. Sending Ruby the money through a bank was out, while mailing money required a mailing address and she didn't want to leave Ruby over night or for a few days in San Andreas.

"I'll..." she said as she quickly stringed together her plan. "I'll be on a plane to Los Santos International in an hour. Meet me there and I'll fly us back to Liberty."

Ruby thought as she thought her sister's plan through.

_"__It's a long way to walk to the airport," _said Ruby unsurely.

_Damn_ thought Yang.

"Alright – uhh – I'll catch a taxi to where to are," suggested Yang quickly realising Ruby might run out of money for the pay phone. "For that matter, where are you?"

_"__Montgomery... I think..."_

"Montgomery..." repeated Yang. "I don't know where that is."

"It's in Red County," butted in Blake.

"_I'm pretty sure I'm still in Red County here,"_ said Ruby.

"Yeah…"

Ruby didn't reply to that before Yang noticed that Blake was gesturing for her to hand over the phone. Unsure what else to say she handed it over to her partner in crime.

"I have a stash with some money in it you could grab. It's not far outside of Montgomery," Blake told Ruby. "The money isn't doing me any good on the other side of the country. Use it to buy yourself a plane ticket and Yang can pay me back the difference."

There was a slight delay before Ruby replied.

"_Who are you exactly?"_ she asked.

"A friend of your sister," replied Blake with a slight amount of exasperation.

"_And where is this stash?"_

Blake quickly explained how there was an old and long abandoned farmstead to the south-west of the town. Inside the roofless dilapidated house under the loose floorboard near the fireplace was the stash in question.

She was about to hand the phone back to Yang when she added a final note.

"And leave the handgun there."

It wasn't that unusual a thing to have in a stash, _really._

Blake pushed the phone into Yang's hand before walking out the bathroom again in search of the money and/or product they were looking for. Wanting to check Ruby got all that she put the phone to her ear only to find the connection had dropped out.

o0o0o0o

Ruby caught Blake's parting comment before the regular beeps of the "insert more money" tone sounded, cutting the connection. It really wasn't worth the risk trying to take a handgun that was probably only worth a few hundred dollars on a plane, especially when you weren't legally were allowed to have any guns at all.

Ruby got moving, it would take her at least an hour to get to the stash – assuming she could actually find the house.

o0o0o0o

Yang tried to push the worry for her sister out of her mind. Ideally she'd be doing something to distract herself right now but instead all she was doing was watching their associate whimper under the ice-cold shower.

She genuinely tried her hardest to protect her sister but she felt like she always managed to screw it up. First was running away from the foster system – though she still wasn't sure that was a bad thing given the stories. Then the car theft to pay the bills and living out of a self-storage place in Vinewood which lead to Ruby getting caught and spending six months in juvy. And then, when Ruby got out, because of her she was back to work stealing cars with her for a gang which lead to the whole mess with that scum Harris and Ruby lucky to have gotten only thirteen months.

She felt like she was a failure. A failure to Ruby, and a failure to the long dead and loved.

o0o0o0o

"I'm pretty certain it's not here."

Having thoroughly stewed in moody thoughts, Yang only responded with a low growl.

"Think he's sober enough to talk?" asked Blake.

Blunty looked like shit sitting naked under the shower with a flattened bloody nose, but his eyes were clear now and he had been paying attention to their conversation.

Yang just gave him a questioning look and raised an eyebrow.

"W-what were you after again?" he sputtered out.

Yang's eyebrows rose in over exaggerated disbelief.

"Gee, maybe it might be the kilo of coke we lent you when you said you could move most of inside of two weeks. The kilo of coke we lent you more than a month ago and haven't seen a single dollar of."

"Where is it?" asked Blake casually.

Blunty fidgeted nervously for just a second before freezing rock still when he realised how incriminating it looked.

"Where – is – it?" she repeated with a dead calm as she stuck her gun in his face.

Blunt gulped and stared cross-eyed at the muzzle while trying to move backwards only to find he was already against the wall.

"It was – uh – it was stolen," he managed to get out, not taking his eyes of Blake's gun.

"Stolen you say?" questioned Yang as Blake withdrew slightly causing Blunty to relax.

"Yes," he replied. "It was – uh – only a few days after you got me the goods. I'd only sold a few – a – a few ounces when it happened."

"A few days after?" asked Blake incredulously.

"You mean to say you've been sitting on this for weeks?" asked Yang, he anger rising.

"I – I – uh," he sputtered as he focused on Blake's hand around her gun constricting slightly.

"You should have told us immediately."

"If you had, we might have been able to retrieve it at no cost to you," added Blake. "It's how we did business."

Blunty was breathing in very short fast breaths, never letting his eyes of Blake's grip. It was almost as if he feared a twitch would set the sub-machine gun off – in his face.

"Are you going to kill me?" he asked quietly and terror-stricken.

Yang smirked and gave a small chuckle.

"_No_," she replied. "You're just going to give us anything of value that can be used to compensate us for the product you lost and didn't make the slightest effort to recover…"

"But wait, I did!" he quickly stated. "I did try."

Blake rolled her eyes; Blunty was an inch away from begging for his life.

"You should have gone straight to –" said Yang before being cut off.

"What did you find?"

Yang looked at Blake in surprise. Blunty seemed to be surprised as well as he fumbled over his words again.

"It – it was that crew from that club over in Purgatory – uh…"

Yang just twisted her head slightly and Blunty got the message of how impatient she was at that moment.

"The – the crew run by Junior," he finally got out.

Yang's eyes widened slightly in surprise while Blake's narrowed in suspicion, however a few seconds later she relaxed slightly, lowered her weapon and gave a quick look at Yang.

"We won't be charging you for the inconvenience you've caused, Blunty," said Blake facing him again.

"This time," added Yang.

Blake gave Yang a look for interrupting her as Yang shrugged.

"But we will be taking what we're owed," she continued. "I think I saw a few kilos of weed somewhere around here. That would be a start…"

Blunty looked sicked as the prospect of losing his stash.

o0o0o0o

"I want that bike."

A yellow something bike – Blake wasn't exactly sure; she wasn't exactly a bike person – in the unit behind Blunty's place.

"Why?" she asked with exasperation.

"Because… I can?" replied Yang slowly as if it was obvious.

Blake just sighed.

"I have it all worked out," she continued as if she didn't hear the tone of disapproval. "Blunty will transfer it – all legit – to me, then I'll pay the Princess back. It will save us the trouble of pawning the bike."

She did not really want to concede it, but Yang was right about not having to bare the hassle of selling the bike.

"How much does he still owe us after the bike?" asked Yang.

Blake held up one of the vacuum bags and gave it a little shake.

"Two of the bricks were the typical Mexican crap, the other looks like something far fancier; Blunty said it was grown hydroponically by someone up in Canada – his personal stash. I found six or seven ounces of bubble hash as well."

Black scrutinised the bike for a few seconds.

"How much do you think the bike is worth?" she asked.

"Eh – like fifteen grand? Maybe twenty?" Yang replied before pausing and concentrating. "Let me look it up."

As Yang pulled out her phone Blake did the rough numbers in her head; Blunty would probably still owe them a few grand assuming Yang's guestimate was right.

"One as nice as this one goes for about eighteen," said Yang after several minutes.

"So eighteen for the bike, lets say two and a half for the cheap bricks each, four for the good stuff, two for the bubble. He still owes three grand."

"Yeah, that sounds about right," replied Yang. "Let's see if he can scrounge up the cash."

o0o0o0o

"See, that wasn't too difficult," said Yang with a tone of faux kindness.

Blunty had just signed over his pride and joy: a yellow Ducati motorcycle. He had also handed over the last of his cash.

"You're still short," commented Blake.

"I'll…" said Blunty before giving a gulp. "I'll have it for you in a few weeks."

"You better," muttered Yang.

* * *

**So there you go.**

**As said at the top, some input would be nice.**

**Thanks, subscribe, review, etc.**


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